


Lifeline

by ishougen



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-05 01:08:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/717127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishougen/pseuds/ishougen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q is sick, so James looks after him. Fluffy drabble for the brilliant professorfangirl/lizekhart - feel better bb!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lifeline

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lizeckhart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizeckhart/gifts).



Q was normally a fairly reserved person. He worked in his head for the most part and didn’t like to go out, especially to those staff parties the other Q Branch employees threw once or twice a month. In his line of work, overt shows of emotion were considered a personal flaw. On an average day the world was lucky to see his lips do something more than twitch sarcastically.

Today was not an average today. Today, Q’s lips had shaped themselves into a resolute pout. Today, Q was sick, and James wasn’t going to let him use his laptop until he got better.

“You’re going to strain yourself,” the agent had admonished, stealing the device from Q’s restless fingers and stashing it away somewhere before pressing the boy down onto the couch, where a stack of pillows and blankets had already been set up.

“I have work to do,” Q had replied, unable to keep the shock from his voice – how dare double-oh-seven take away his computer? It was basically his IV!

“You need to rest.”

“I want to watch a show.”

“You should take a nap.”

“ _James_ ,” Q had finally pleaded, his voice whiny and petulant and not at all similar to his usual witty tone.

“No.” The agent was impassive as always, even when he was tucking yet another blanket around Q’s scrawny frame, basically weighing him down too much to attempt any kind of escape. “Now be a good boy and relax while I make you some tea.”

After Bond’s blonde hair and large frame had disappeared into the kitchen, Q plopped himself back onto the pillows with a sigh. He hated being sick. Being sick meant that his body was betraying him. He knew he wasn’t strong, not like James, not like the field agents, but Q also knew that his mental prowess held its own importance. When he was sick, his mental faculties became sluggish, his work compromised.

Maybe it had been a good idea for Bond to take away his computer. At least this way a bomb wouldn’t go off somewhere because he forgot a line of code.

Q burrowed deeper into the blanket nest Bond had created for him, muffling the sounds of clinking cups and whistling kettle that preempted teatime. He’d never admit it, but he enjoyed how domestic the agent had become since they’d gotten together (if that’s what it could be called, this awkward arrangement of sleepovers and stolen kisses and the occasional gift). Q was a loner, was used to doing things his own way. Having Bond around threw him off kilter in a pleasantly challenging way.

When the agent returned, bearing a tea tray stacked with cups, cream, sugar, and a small bottle of medicine, Q’s lips took on another unusual shape. As he sat up and accepted his tea from James’ strong, gentle hands, he smiled gratefully and said, his voice just a little bit hoarse, “Thank you, James.”

“My pleasure, Q,” Bond replied, pressing a gentle kiss to his quartermaster’s temple. “Now drink, and rest, or M will have my head.”

Q would most likely pout some more that day, but that grateful smile would always be hiding just behind it - at least, until he returned to work.


End file.
